Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder
by Cali
Summary: In Harry’s fifth year, the ancient Merlin Program takes the students to a faraway land, where new adventures awaits.Who are the Knights of the Dragons? What are their connection to the hammer of Thor, and the mysterious girls that haunts Harry's dreams?
1. The Road To Mandalay

Christina *Cit* Draconis __

Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder  
_Disclaimer:_ Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, the song "Road to Mandalay" belongs to Robbie Williams.  
_Summary:_ In Harry's fifth year, the ancient Merlin Program takes the Hogwarts students to a faraway land, where new and dangerous adventures awaits. Who are the Knights of the Dragons? Do they have a connection to the mystical girl that haunts Harry's dream? And where does the hammer of Thor fit in this strange tale?  
~~*~~  
  
**Chapter 1: The Road to Mandalay**  
  
_Save me from drowning on the sea  
Beat me up on a beach  
What a lovely holiday  
There's nothing funny left to say_  
  
In later years, Harry couldn't really account for what happened that summer. The weeks spent at the Dursley's were all bathed in a dreamlike blur. Despite what he had said about looking forward and that what would be, would be, Harry couldn't follow his own advice. Half the time, he expected Voldemort to burst in the front door, and his dreams were haunted by ghostly figures, dark marks, and a ghastly voice that always said the same; "Kill the spare". But who the spare was, changed from dream to dream. Sometimes it was Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny, or even Draco Malfoy. The dreams exhausted him; he woke up, tired as if he had been up all night, studying to a particularly nasty exam, and most of his waken time, he sat alone, thinking. Occasionally, aunt Petunia would make him do things in the garden. He didn't protest, just nodded, and did his chores in silence. He never tried to explain what had happened to the Dursleys. He had long since resigned to the fact that they never would, or could, understand him. But despite the fact that they were the worst muggles on earth, they noticed the changes.   
Small things.  
Vernon noticed the pressing silence in the car on their way home from King's Cross.  
Petunia couldn't help but wonder how it had come to that the emerald green eyes that once had been Lily's trademark, now spent so much time staring into eternity.  
Even the Dudley noticed.  
The sinister air and deadly silence around Harry scared them, and if they had treated him like a bomb waiting to go off before, it was nothing against now. Most of the time, they left him alone, leaving him to do his own things in his own time.  
  
And this is how it came, that one Saturday evening late in August, that both the Dursleys and Harry was gathered in the living room.  
While Dudley and Vernon was watching a movie about the Vietnam war, Petunia was reading one of her gossip magazines. Harry was sitting in on the floor, he too reading.  
As a news break came up, Dudley turned, and scowled at Harry.  
"What are you reading, freak?"  
Harry didn't look up.  
"A book."  
"I can see that. What book?"  
"The horse and his boy."

Dudley snorted.  
"Never heard of it. What's it about?"  
"A talking horse."  
"Horses don't talk!" roared uncle Vernon.  
Harry didn't answer, just continued reading.  
The Dursleys' attention was pulled back to the television by the voice of the news reporter.  
At first, Harry managed to block out the television, but when Dudley wailed and made aunt Petunia turn the volume up, it was hard to continue it.  
_"...fortunately, no-one has been injured. The official statement is that there is no criminal motive behind the fire, but all indicates towards the opposite, seeing as the mark of the Snakestongue cult was found burned into the grass garden in front of the house. If I'm not mistaken, you have more info on the cult back in the studio. Ted?"  
"Thank you, Jessica. As many of our older viewers may know, the Snakestongue cult was responsible for several deaths and fires in the 1970's. The cult has seemingly no political or religious motives, nor pattern, and little is known about them, not even their correct name. The only thing that ties the variety of crimes they have committed together, is their mark, which also have given them their name; a skull with a snake as tongue."  
_Harry looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of a rough draft of the dark mark  
_"We will be back with more information on the housefire. But now, back to the movie."  
_"Damn religious nutters," grunted Vernon.  
"Actually, they're not religious," said Harry, still in awe.  
"And who appointed you expert? And if not, then what are they?"  
"They're-" started Harry, but was interrupted by Aunt Petunia, who was shaking.  
"They're like the Potters," she said. "Wizards."  
She stood bolt up, and, ran up the stairs.  
Vernon stared hatefully at Harry.  
"To your room, boy!"  
"But-"  
"No buts, TO YOUR ROOM!"  
~~*~~  
  
Harry had trouble sleeping that night. Why had aunt Petunia reacted that strongly to the dark mark? She wasn't a witch, she didn't know anything about it.   
That was not the only thing bothering him. He hadn't heard from neither Ron or Hermione that summer, not even his Hogwarts letter had come yet. He had sent Hedvig out with letters several times, but she had returned without answer every time.  
Another thing was the Death Eaters. If they were strong enough for even the muggles to notice, who knew what might had happened in the wizarding world while he was gone?  
At last, he fell into worried sleep.  
  
The dream came back that night, but it was different.  
_They were at the churchyard, he and Cedric.  
"Wands out, you reckon?"  
Harry could do nothing else than nodding.  
It was all so strange. He knew he was dreaming, he knew what was going to happen. He turned, and expected to see the traitorous rat that once had prided himself with the name Wormtail. But he wasn't there.  
And just as he was gone, so were the Death Eaters, the cauldron, and the demon baby that became Voldemort every night, in every dream.  
All that was left was the churchyard, the two of them, and the silence of the night.  
Silence, though?  
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.  
Cedric didn't answer, just pointed at a small figure with bright, almost white hair lying on the ground in front of them From what Harry could see, it was probably a girl..  
"Is she-"  
"-Dead? I think so," said Cedric.  
But at that moment, the girl coughed, and rolled over. They raced over to her.  
She was about fourteen, and even though Harry couldn't pinpoint exactly what, there was something oddly familiar with her.   
"Miss?" he said softly. "Miss?"  
She slowly opened her eyes, and Harry was almost startled by how blue they were.  
"She's hurt pretty bad."  
And now, Harry could see that the white dress she was wearing, was flecked with blood.   
"It looks like she's been bitten by something, just look."  
Cedric pointed at a spot on her chest, where her dress had been ripped, revealing a large bite.  
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Harry.  
His Hufflepuff companion nodded.  
"I can't remember the healing spell, but if you could rip of one of her sleeves, I'll try to bandage her wound."  
Harry kneeled beside Cedric, and after some pulling, the sleeve finally came off. But before he could give the Hufflepuff the piece of fabric, a mark on her skin caught his eye.  
The Dark Mark.  
He looked up at her face, but it was changed. Before his eyes, her hair turned auburn, and her previously sapphire blue eyes were now shining in vicious, predatory green. Nothing on her face was like it had been only seconds ago- it was like it was another girl staring up at him now.  
She sat up, her gaze fixed on Harry. She smiled- an alarming smirk, ivory fangs contrasting against blood red lips.  
Then-   
"Kill the spare."  
Flashing green.  
Cedric falling to the ground.  
A dragon.  
A snarling wolf.   
Lightning.  
And the first girl, the girl with the almost white, almost golden hair.  
She was smiling at him, winking, radiating such happiness that Harry never had seen or felt before.  
And that was the last image he saw, before falling into a darkness as black as the darkest night.  
  
_But when he woke up the next morning, he had no memory or recollection of the dream, only a bad feeling that he had missed something important._  
~~*~~  
_  
About one week later, it was the sound of an owl tapping on his window that woke Harry up one fine Sunday morning. Or rather, the sound of a white dove tapping on the window. Half asleep, he got up, and let the bird in. It flapped it's wings a few times, and landed on the bed.  
Harry walked over to the bed, and sat down beside the bird. Now, he could see that the dove was not only carrying a letter, but also a small parcel stamped with the Hogwarts seal.  
Deciding that the school affairs could come second, Harry opened the letter first, and couldn't help but grin upon seeing Hermione's handwriting.  
  
_Dear Harry  
I'm writing this in a hurry, so you'll have to excuse my writing. By now, you're probably wondering why neither Ron or I have written. But as a matter of fact, we have, and to be quite honest with you, we were nearly giving up, seeing as you didn't answer. Fortunately enough, I (literally) bumped into professor Dumbledore in Disneyland (of all the places for that man to vacation, I always thought that Orlando, Florida would be the least likely place), and he told me that the security around you has been strengthened, and that no letters were allowed through to you. He did agree to send this letter with the school mail, though. :) (thus the hurry)  
  
Speaking of school mail, guess who got their letters just after school ended? The triplets _(Which triplets? thought Harry) _are ecstatic. As for me- I'm torn between happiness and anxiety, because when all comes to, I don't think McGonagall knows what she were doing when she admitted the terrible trio.  
  
But back to the point- because of the workload the Ministry have gotten this last few months, the Weasleys can't come and get you this year. BUT! the Grangermobile _(The what?)_ will pick you up at noon, August thirtieth, and drive you to Diagon Alley, where Ron, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and the twins will be waiting for us at the Leaky Cauldron.  
But I have to go now- my family's getting impatient (a rain storm's coming on- the weather here is so shifty!).  
  
Love, Hermione (who really hope that you're okay)  
PS: Dumbledore told me to tell you that Snuffles is all right- he's still in hiding.  
  
_Harry grinned as a mental image from last summer came back to him- professor Dumbledore stretched out on a beach, rubbing sun-tanning lotion on his long nose. However, it was soon replaced by Hermione in a bikini, rubbing- WAIT A MINUTE! Hermione in a bikini? Where the bloody Mary did that come from?  
Shaking that very strange, but still very fascinating thought away from his head, Harry opened the parcel from Hogwarts. Emptying the contents on the table, he couldn't help frown as a circular object engraved with the letter 'P' rolled out on the table. The other things in the parcel was a small book entitled 'Hogwarts School Rules', and the usual school letter:  
  
_Dear Mr. Potter  
Please note that the new school year is starting on September 1st. The Hogwarts Express will be leaving from King's Cross, track 9 and ¾ at eleven o'clock.   
I am also pleased to inform you that you have been chosen prefect for Gryffindor.  
Enclosed is your badge, the list of rules and regulations of Hogwarts, and a list of required things for the new year._

Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonnogall  
  
Required items for all fifth years:  
School Uniform:  
- Travelling cloak  
- Dress Robes/Dress/Suit  
  
Set Books:   
- The Way to Valhalla- the life and culture of northern wizards though the times  
- Oh What Ludicrousy!- a guide to taking your OWLs  
- The Standard book of Spells (grade 5)  
- Transmogrify my butt- Handy Magic for Teenagers  
- Hairy Snout, Human Heart  
  
Harry was about to open the Rule book when a sharp rap on his door announced that aunt Petunia was up, and expecting him to help with breakfast. He quickly put the letters under some books, and got dressed.  
***  
  
"And then, the Frenchie said: I wish the two others were back here!" Uncle Vernon roared with laughter of his own joke.  
It was August twenty-ninth, a week after the letter had arrived, and Harry still hadn't told the Dursleys. It was a rather hot day, and the family was out in the garden, barbecuing. Despite the fact that Dudley was still on a diet, the hamburgers were practically dripping with fat. Harry, however, only got some dry slices of bread with a baked potato to eat.  
"Say," said Dudley between two mouthfuls of meat, "aren't you starting that freak school of yours soon?"   
Harry looked up from his 'food'.  
"Yeah- the school train leaves from King's Cross on Monday."  
Vernon grunted.  
"If you think I'm going to drive you, you're wrong. I have work."  
Harry shook his head.  
"You won't have to- a friend of mine and her family is picking me up tomorrow."  
The table fell silent- Dudley even stopped chewing. Apparently, the Weasley incident from last year was still not forgotten.  
"Don't worry, they are mu-, I mean, normal."  
"And they'll pick you up by car?"  
Harry nodded, seriously hoping that the so-called Grangermobile indeed was a car.  
Aunt Petunia snorted, but didn't say anything.  
***  
  
At noon the next day, Harry was sitting on the Dursleys' stairs, anxiously waiting for the Grangers to arrive. His school things were piled next to the door, and the pockets of his way-too-large jacket were filled with the money that was left from last year. However, fifteen minutes later, they still weren't there, and the Dursleys (who were waiting in the kitchen) were getting just as impatient as they had been last year. Dudley had refused to come downstairs- and when all came to, Harry couldn't really blame him. He only hoped that none of them would get cursed this time around.  
"Erm... I'm sure they were just stuck in traffic," he said, more to himself than to the people in the kitchen. "I'm going to go upstairs and check if I forgot something."  
He hobbled upstairs, and into the small bedroom. No sooner had he checked the loose floorboard, than the doorbell rang.  
He hurried down the stairs, and stopped midway when aunt Petunia opened the door.  
"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger, and I-"  
"I'm sorry, we aren't buying anything."  
"No wait, I'm not selling anything! I'm here to pick up Harry."  
"Harry?"  
"Yes, Harry Potter. This is number 4, Privet Drive, right?"  
Dudley appeared beside Harry.  
"You go to a co-ed. school?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Cool."  
Aunt Petunia regained her senses, and nodded.  
"Boy!"  
"I'm right here," said Harry, and walked down the stairs. He tried to gather up his things, but the trunk was so heavy, that between it, Hedvig's cage and his bookbag, he fell over.  
"Want some help with that?"  
He looked up, and blushed. Petunia had let Hermione into the hall, and she was now staring down at him, only wearing a skimpy blue sundress, and a matching hat. She was very tanned, and her usually all-brown hair was now streaked with sun-bleached stripes.  
"Erm...yeah.  
He quickly got up while Hermione lifted Hevig's cage, then turned towards the Dursleys.  
"Well- bye then."  
The Dursleys didn't answer. Aunt Petunia just stared at the floor, uncle Vernon peaked out the window (probably trying to figure out what kind of car 'the Grangermobile' was), and Dudley was just staring at Hermione, apparently lovestruck.  
"Shall we go then?" Hermione asked.  
No one cares if I stay anyway, thought Harry.   
"Yes."  
  
The Grangermobile was indeed a car. To be exact, it was a seven-seat mini-van. The trunk was open, and in front of it stood a woman that Harry recognised as Hermione's mother, although she looked far less nervous now than last time he saw her, in Diagon Alley.  
"Hello, Harry," she said.  
"Hello, Mrs. Granger."  
"No, please, just call me Michelle. Now, you two just get into the car, I'll take you things for you." She grabbed his things, and started to put them in the trunk. He could hear Crookshanks splutter as Hedvig's cage was put on top of his basket.  
Hermione grabbed his hand, and dragged him around the car.  
"Come on," she said.  
The two of them climbed into the car.  
"Ouh, holding hands now, are we?" said a voice from the back seat.  
Harry turned, and looked into no less than three younger versions of Hermione, only with respective straight hair, braids and curls.  
Hermione frowned.  
"May I introduce the terrible trio- Helena, Hero, and Hecate."  
"Which is which?" Harry asked befuddled.  
"I'm Hero," said the one with the braids. She gestured to the one beside her, with the curls, who was blowing a bubble with her bubblegum. "This is Hecate."  
"And I'm Helena," said the last one. Harry couldn't help but notice that the three of them had a strong Manchester-accent, unlike Hermione, whose only linguistic peculiarity was a sometimes annoying habit of pronouncing every last syllable in a word.  
"Hermione, Helena, Hero and Hecate," mused Hermione. "Sense a pattern?"  
"All 'H'-names from Shakespeare plays," said Mrs. Granger, who had gotten into the car, and was starting the engine. "Although, it wasn't really intentionally at first. My husband gave the collected works while I was pregnant with the triplets, and we chose names from our favourite plays."  
Hecate popped her bubblegum.  
"Macbeth, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Much Ado About Nothing," she said, counting on her fingers.  
"They didn't even know that the name Hermione was used in a play," said Helena.   
"Or so they claim," muttered Hermione.  
The triplets began chattering, and Mrs. Granger concentrated on the road.  
"So," said Hermione, "how was your summer?"  
Harry quickly filled her in on aunt Petunia's reaction to the news about the Death Eaters. Hermione, however, seemed more interested in the fact that the group now was noted by the muggles than Petunia's reaction.  
"Well, think about it, Harry. It's only natural that your aunt acted like that. After all, this group's leader killed her sister, and, despite the fact that the two of them weren't the best of friends, it would still have some effect on her, right?"  
"I know, but I just can't shake off this feeling that I've overlooked something."  
She patted his back.  
"Don't worry about that, Harry. You have enough on you mind as it is."  
"You're right, it's probably nothing."  
"With your aunt- yes. With the Death Eaters- no. In fact, that could be really serious. What if-"  
Harry interrupted her before she could say any more.  
"Heard anything from Ron lately?"  
"Directly, no. After I mentioned that I might spend a week at Victor's, he's refused to even read my letters." She paused for a moment. "Ginny's written, though. According to her, things are pretty wild over at the Burrow nowadays. Mr. Weasley and Bill have been coming and going at the oddest hours, Percy's practically moved in over at the ministry, and on top of that, Charlie got married in late June."  
"Charlie? Married?"  
Hermione nodded.  
"Yes. Apparently, he met some American witch down in the Romanian dragon camp. They got married a month after they met, in France. Very romantic, according to Ginny."  
Harry scoffed.  
"Of course she thinks it's romantic, she's a girl."  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"And I bet she has cooties to," she said, imitating Harry's voice, and he couldn't help but laugh. Hermione smiled back, a soft, caring smile.  
"It's good to hear you laugh, Harry. God knows, if last term's events is telling us what is yet to come, we're going to need all the comic relief we can get." The expression on her face was sad, and Harry could tell that he wasn't the only one who had been haunted by the third task during the summer.  
There was an awkward silence, which was broken by Mrs. Granger's voice.  
"Hermione, could you take a look at the map, and check the quickest route through London?"  
"Of course, Mum," she said, and dried her eyes, laughing nervously.  
  
As Hermione absorbed herself in the map, Hecate leaned forward, and stuck her head out over the seatback. She stared at Hermione for a moment or two, and then turned to Harry.  
"She's been like tha' all summer. Usually, you can' stop her mouth for two seconds, always talkin' about school year." She made a whistling sound. "But this summer- no' a single word, and every time someone mentions Hogwarts, she gets all teary-eyed."  
Helena, who also had her head stuck out nodded.  
"So wha' did 'appen last year? Her boyfriend stood her up?"  
Hermione's head snapped up.  
"My love-life is none of your business, Hel, so shut up. Here, Mum, this is the best way," she said. "Oh, and by the way, Harry, here's you gift."  
She handed him a small box wrapped in broomstick-textured paper, which had been lying on the car floor.  
"I had it handmade in Verb Alley, the wizard street in Orlando. I wished you had gotten it in time for you birthday, but I didn't take the risk of sending it all the way from Florida, and besides- you wouldn't have gotten it anyway. Go ahead- open it!"  
He opened the box, and couldn't help but gasp as he saw the gift.  
It was a wizard watch, with four pointers- one labelled 'Hermione', the other 'Ron', the third 'Snuffles', and the last one with his own name. Like was normal with wizards watches, there was text instead of numbers, although it was different from the one the Weasleys had. Of course, it had the standard ones, like 'school', 'home', and 'travelling', and some unexpected, but none the less practical, like 'out fighting evil', 'Snape's around the corner', and 'flying'. However, some of the text was not just strange, but outright alarming.  
"'Drunk out of your mind'?"  
He stared at Hermione.  
She shrugged.  
"Trust me, it'll come in handy one day."  
"What? You planning on emptying the Three Broomstick's bar soon?"  
"Very funny. I just... had to decide on something, and that's the only thing I managed to come up with."  
"'Kicking Malfoy butt' ?"  
"I don't know about you, but I'm definitely planning on doing that one," she answered, winking. "I've decided that this year, I'll do less worrying and more Malfoy-kicking."  
"Ok, I can, too a certain extent, understand both the drunk, and the kick-butt ones. But honestly- 'slow dancing, french kissing'?"  
Hermione blushed, and gales of laughter sounded from the backseat as Hecate hugged herself and made kissing noises.  
Hermione picked up the wrapping paper, and threw it at her.  
"Mum, she's throwing things at me!"  
Mrs. Granger snorted.  
"When you do things like that, you deserve to get thrown at. But stop fighting now, we're here now."  
Hermione looked out of the window.  
"Mum, it's not here, it's two blocks away, on Charing Cross Road."  
"I know, honey, but this is the only free parking space. We'll just walk down there."  
"But what about our things? After all, we can't just go strolling down the street with five trunks, bags, an owl and a cat. That would be extremely bad for the muggle security cause."  
"I'll drive it down later, don't worry. Now let's go, we're already late."  
  
***  
  
While both Harry, Hermione and Mrs. Granger had been to the Leaky Cauldron before, the triplets hadn't, so they were naturally amazed. While Mrs. Granger and Hermione reserved rooms for the lot of them, the three of them used the time to look around the Leaky Cauldron. Especially Helena seemed to find the clientele fascinating. Harry really couldn't blame her- after all, it was one thing to hear that one was a wizard or witch, another was to see a hag and a goblin sharing a bottle of Odgen's Old Firewhisky, while puffs of smoke rose from the brand logo, a Hebridean Black. Harry couldn't help but finding the sight interesting himself, but before he managed to find out exactly how a drawing could emit smoke, a loud voice caught his attention.  
"Harry! Oy, Harry, old fella!"  
He turned, and found himself face to face with Charlie Weasley.  
"Charlie!" said Hermione, who had walked up beside Harry.  
The red-head beamed at her.  
"Hermione, how are you? Fine I hope? And this must be your mother? Nice to meet you, Mrs. Granger!"  
Mrs. Granger smiled politely, and shook his hand.  
"And you must be Charles Weasley. I heard Hermione mention that you got married this summer, congratulations. I wish the two of you all the happiness in the world."  
"Please, just call me Charlie. And thank you, we're very happy. Anyway, the rest of my family is waiting down at Fortesque's ice cream parlour. My mother thought it was too nice weather to wait inside, so she and Kerry dumped me here to wait for you." He massaged his temples, as though he had a headache. Turned towards Harry and Hermione, he sighed. "I can feel the two of them plotting against me at this very moment. My mother and my own wife- tsk, tsk."  
"Oh come on, it can't be that bad, can it?" Hermione said.  
"Kerry," said Charlie, "get better along with Mum than I do." Then he gave them an all-saying look.  
  
If the triplets had been awe-struck by the Leaky Cauldron, it was nothing against how they reacted to Diagon Alley. Even though the Ice-cream parlour was only a short walk away, it took them almost fifteen minutes to get there, seeing as the triplets would stop at every other step, admiring the old buildings, pointing out interesting shops, or giggling at all the men dressed in robes ("I tell you, my bes' friend Jenny has a dress jus' like it!" was Helena's response upon seeing Ernie Macmillan, who was dressed in pastel blue robes).   
The ice-cream parlour was buzzing with customers, as one would expect on a sunny day, but spotting the Weasleys wasn't hard. The red-headed family took up two whole tables to themselves, and Harry guessed that now that the Grangers joined them, they would need another one. Even though Hermione had said that only Mrs. Weasley and the youngest Weasley children were coming, it seemed that large parts of the family was there.  
There was small, plump Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Fred and George, Ginny, the oldest Weasley brother- Bill, and an ash-blonde witch, whom Harry assumed was Kerry. Ron was nowhere in sight, but Harry could swear that he had seen his tall gangly friend going into the men's room.  
As they walked over, Mrs. Weasley got up, and greeted them heartily.  
After giving Harry a hug, she looked him up and down, and tutted.  
"Young man, you are too thin! Haven't those relatives of yours been feeding you enough?" She shook her head. "If I'd known, I'd have sent you food."  
As Harry and Hermione sat down, Ginny sighed.  
"She's been worrying sick about you all summer. I swear, the whole lot of us could have fallen into a black whole and disappeared into outer space, she wouldn't have noticed. Harry this- Harry that! No offence Harry, but it's getting rather tiresome. Speaking of outer space- Hermione, how was Florida?"  
The two girls trailed of into a conversation about America, and Harry turned his attention towards the other people at the table. Fred and George were talking to the triplets, telling them about the terribly hard and painful sorting ceremony, receiving a variety of reactions; the anxious look on Helena's face, the mischief shining from Hecate's eyes, and Hero's more or less critical reaction; only a lifted eyebrow. Bill and Charlie were discussing a new line of broomsticks, while Mrs. Weasley was introducing Kerry to Hermione's mother.  
"-must say, lovely to meet you, Mrs. Granger."  
"And the same to you, Kerry. So, when are you expecting?"   
Harry hadn't noticed it before, but now that Mrs. Granger pointed it out, he did see that Kerry was pregnant.  
"Late February, and I can't wait. I've already started looking for baby things, and to think, one month ago, I didn't even know that they made Dolce and Gabbana robes, let alone for infants!"  
"Quite extraordinary," said a voice from beside Harry. "Through the course of a month, Charlie and Kerry have managed to do what others use years to do: They get together, work together, sleep together, move in together, and get married. I wouldn't be surprised if that baby of theirs decide that nine months is way too long, and come shooting out some time around Halloween."   
Harry turned, only to see that his best friend had slid into the seat between him and Hermione.  
"I take it we are not in a very good mood today, Ron?"  
"No, everything's just peachy with me."  
"Oh, and here I was thinking you perhaps had laid down and died during the summer," said Hermione, who also had noticed Ron now.  
"Hello, Hermione. I see you have developed a nice tan- certainly proving my theory that the sun also rises in Bulgaria."  
Before she could answer, Bill stood up, thereby distracting the whole table.  
"Well, I'll have to get down to Gringotts now, seeing as my lunch break is over. Charlie, Kerry, see you at dinner. Mrs. Granger- absolutely spiffing to meet you, and the rest of you- have a good term. And Mum- don't. Worry. Okay?"  
  
As Bill left the table, Mrs. Granger glanced at her watch, and apparently, both she and Mrs. Weasley found that it was time to get their school things. After a short conference, it was decided that the two mothers, Ginny and the triplets, who all had errands down at Gringotts, should go together. The twins took off on their own, and Kerry and Charlie went back to the Burrow (at least that was what they said when Fred, to Hecate's delight, hugged himself and pretended to make out with someone). Harry had a feeling that the two of them would get along well.  
This left Hermione, Harry, and Ron.  
"So," said Hermione, "do you two need to go to Gringotts?"  
Harry put a hand in his pocket, and quickly calculated that he had enough money to buy his school things, and still have enough to get himself a butterbeer.  
"Not me," he said. "Ron?"  
The gangly youth shook his head.  
"Nope- Fred and George lent me some gold earlier."  
"Gold? Where did they get enough galleons to lend it away?"  
Ron shrugged. "I reckon Bagman finally paid up, but the two of them refuse to answer when I ask, so..."  
Hermione sighed. "I really hope it's nothing illegal. So-where to first? Madame Malkins, or Flourish and Blotts?"  
"Hmm... That's like choosing between being stinged, burned, or bitten." Ron said. Hermione gave him a look very reminiscent of professor McGonagall, and tried to elbow him. She missed though, and Ron laughed like mad.  
"Please," said Harry. "No blast-ended screwt-jokes, please! I had enough traumatising experiences last year, and if you are going to make jokes over the worst of them all, the screwts, I might just lay down and die on this very spot."  
Ron stopped laughing, and Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  
"Harry... If there's anything... you can tell us, you know."  
For a split second, Harry pondered whether or not to tell them about the returning dreams, but quickly decided against it. After all, his scar hadn't hurt, so it couldn't possibly be important, right?  
"Don't worry Hermione, I'm fine." In his quiet mind, he hoped that neither of his friends could see the lie on face.  
Ron shot him a sceptical look. "M-hm?"  
"Don't look at me like that, I said I'm fine!"  
Hermione sighed. "We'll have to take for it, then. Now, let's get our books, shall we?"  
Without Harry or Ron noticing, she had steered them into Flourish and Blotts, and before they even registered what happened, she had disappeared between the large, dusty bookshelves.  
Ron looked at Harry with a lost look in his eyes.  
"Harry, I hate to break this too you, but I think we're stranded in the middle of Hermione-land."  
Harry gaped in mock-alarm.  
"Oh, the horror!"  
Luckily enough for the two boys, the manager of the shop, Arnold Blotts, hurriedly came to their aid. With the aid of a few Accio-spells, the two of them soon had each their bag full of books. Seeing as Hermione was nowhere in sight, the two of them sat down on the steps in front of the shop, and waited.  
It took about ten minutes before Hermione emerged from the bookstore, two large bags filled with books in her hands, and a disgruntled look on her face.  
As the three of them continued down the street, Ron asked her why the sour look.  
"I saw Malfoy up on the second floor- he was standing there with Pansy Parkinson, boasting of his-"  
"Libido?" suggested Ron.  
"- new racing broom."  
"Malfoy got a new broom?"   
"Yes. From what I deduced, something called a Twigger 90. You know," she sighed, "I'd really like to know where the Malfoys get their riches from. I mean, it's not like they do anything for a living. Old money, perhaps?" She looked to Ron for confirmation, but got none.  
"Beats me," said Ron as they walked into Madame Malkins, where they were greeted by the old matrone herself, the always smiling Coco Malkin.  
Ron and Harry were quickly fitted for a dress robe and a travelling cloak each, and while Hermione, whose statue and figure had changed (to the better, Ron and Harry later would agree on) during the summer was fitted for new school robes too, they picked out fabric for their dress robes. Harry quickly decided on bottle green, not unlike the one he had last year, but Ron, who for the first time in his life could choose exactly what he wanted, used longer time.  
"Purple, perhaps?" he asked Harry with a quizzical look.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Don't ask me, ask Hermione. She's a girl, she should know these things."  
Ron's face darkened, but seeing as Harry didn't give him any advice, he turned towards their female friend. "Hermione?"  
Not even bothering to turn around and see the fabric, she simply answered:  
"If you turn up with purple robes, Ron, I'll refuse to even talk to you."  
"White, then?"   
"If you want to look like a choirboy, go ahead."  
Ron's ears went red.  
"Then what do you expect me to wear? Nothing perhaps? Should I stroll around naked?"  
"As entertaining as that would be, no. How about trying navy blue? I have a good feeling about that colour."  
Ron mumbled something about witches who were colour-blind, but ended up with that colour anyway, causing Hermione to grin smugly as they walked down to the Leaky Cauldron.  
***  
  
They had dinner in one of the private parlours that evening. Or to be more precise- two of the parlours. While Mrs. Granger, Mrs. Weasley and the girls sat in one, Ron, Harry and the twins shared another.  
"So," said Ron as their meal was served, "did she tell you anything?"  
"Who?"  
"Doris Crockford!"  
"Heh?" Harry replied, whereupon Ron hit him on the forehead with his hand.  
"Hermione, of course, who else?"  
"Oh, Hermione. What about her?"  
"Did she tell you anything about her summer? Like..."  
Harry stared at him.  
"Like what?"  
"Like if she did visit Krum or not! Ginny knows, but she won't tell me anything. It's so frustrating!"  
For a brief while, they sat in silence, before Ron once more spoke.  
"So- did she?"  
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's persistence.  
"No, she didn't tell me anything. Satisfied?"  
Ron grimaced.  
"I just can't see what she sees in that guy. I mean, sure, he's the best seeker in the world -current company excluded, of course-, smart and polite, likes to dance. But does he have-"  
"-red hair? Lots of freckles? An incredibly stupid way of showing his feelings?" interrupted George.  
Harry and Ron turned, only to see the twins staring at them.  
"What do you mean?" said Ron.  
Fred sighed heavily.  
"Oh, come on, Ronniekins! No need to hide it for us!"  
"Hide what? I'm not hiding anything, here, look in my pockets, nothing here," said Ron frenetically.  
"Except for the fact that you fancy Hermione?" suggested George.  
The youngest red-head stared back.  
"Me? Fancy her? As ever! We're just friends. Come on Harry, back me up here, will you?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"I'm sorry Ron, but I'm afraid I will have to go with the twins on this one."  
Ron threw his hands up in exasperation.  
"Betrayed! Betrayed by my own best friend, and my brothers!"  
The twins simply laughed, and Fred began chanting 'Ron and 'Ermione sitting in a tree,   
K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"  
Ron immediately hushed him.  
"What, afraid that she'll hear you?"   
"Noo, I just...yes," said Ron meekly.  
Fred leaned over and put an arm around his brother's shoulders.  
"Don't worry, Ron. We'll help you get the girl. After all, the two of you are fated to be. Right, Harry?"   
"Of course!" Harry exclaimed, and under the dim candlelight, the four of them started plotting on how to win the fair Hermione's affections.


	2. Scar Tissue

Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder __

Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder  
_Disclaimer:_ Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, the song "Scar Tissue" belongs to the Red Hot Chilipeppers.  
_Author's Note_: Ah, second chapter! Lovely, lovely. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, and my lovely betas, Nayru and Me. A special thanks also goes out to reviewer and friend Shkspr, who seem very keen on H/Hr, but nothing has been decided yet.  
Sorry Shakes! As always, read and review!   
~~*~~  
  
**Chapter 2: Scar Tissue  
  
**_Scar tissue that I wish you saw  
Sarcastic Mr. Know-it-all  
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you  
'Cause with birds I'll share_**  
  
**Due to the fact that many others had had the same idea as the Weasleys and the Grangers, spending the last night of vacation at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry ended up sharing room with Ron that evening. Not that he minded, no, not at all. Quite on the contrary, actually, he enjoyed it. After dinner, the two of them went up to the room, and spent most of the night playing chess and gobstones, bursting into gales of laughter or strings of cursing every time they lost. It wasn't until Ginny, who was staying in the next room, jabbed her fist into the wall and shouted at them to shut up and go to sleep already, that the two of them got ready to get two bed. But just as Harry had fallen asleep, a sharp knock on the door awakened him from his for once dreamless sleep.  
Once again, whoever standing outside knocked.  
"Ginny, get the door," mumbled Ron sleepily. Harry, who felt like he was tied to the bed, rolled over, and hoped that the knocker would go away.  
However, the person outside seemed persistent, and kept on knocking. Then-  
"Harry, Ron, you great big prats, it's me!" came Hermione's voice in a loud, urgent, whisper.  
Now, Ron got up and opened the door.  
" 'Mione?" he yawned. "What's going on?"  
As she rushed into the room, Hermione threw a slip of parchment at Harry, who sat up to read it. It was rather small, and seeing as it had glue on one side, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the wizard version of Post-Its. However, the text on it was far more intriguing than the note itself. It was only a few words hastily scribbled down, but those words sent chills down Harry's back: **_Attack on the Sims eelfarm- no casualties- dark mark. Death Eaters??_**  
Handing Ron the note, Harry looked up at Hermione, who now was pacing around the room, her flyaway hair giving her a wild look.  
"How-"  
"Mum and I went out for a walk about an hour ago. We decided to walk down Diagon Alley to Gringotts, and Leg. Alley up again."  
"Leg. Alley?" asked Harry.  
"Legacy Alley," said Ron, "that's where all the wizard law firms and most of the publishing houses are, including the one that distributes the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. It's between Knockturn and Diagon Alley."   
"ANYWAY," said Hermione, annoyed that she had been interrupted, "since we were passing by the Prophet headquarters anyway, I thought that I would stop by and sign up for having the Prophet sent to me." Here she stopped for a moment. "But when we entered the reception hall, people were flying everywhere, stressed out of their minds, talking about attacks and Death Eaters. Seeing as I didn't want Mum to freak out totally, I shooed her out of there at once. But just as we left, this," she pointed at the slip of parchment, "came flying into my face."  
"Oh man," said Ron, " this is the fourth-" Upon seeing the looks on Hermione and Harry's faces, he slowed down "- the fourth card in a new game from Zonkos," he finished.  
"Ron- even Neville is a better liar than you," said Hermione glumly. "Now, what fourth thing is this?"  
Ron sighed.  
"Okay- Mum made me promise not to tell you this, but it's been like this all summer. People's been disappearing and re-appearing with no recollection of what happened to them, houses and buildings have been attacked, and the Dark Mark keep on popping up everywhere. This is the fourth attack this month. But the strange thing is-" here, he lowered his voice to a whisper, "no-one's been hurt."  
"No one?" asked Harry.  
"No one."  
All three of them fell silent, and it wasn't until Hermione got up and said that she had to go, that any of them moved. She hugged both the boys goodnight, and disappeared out the door.  
"I guess..." said Harry darkly.  
"You guess what?" asked Ron.  
"I guess that this means that the shit has hit the fan."  
Ron stared at him for a moment, then turned off the lights as they climbed into their beds.  
"Good night Harry."  
"Good night, Ron."   
And soon, Harry could hear Ron's snoring through the darkness. However, he didn't fall asleep himself until many hours later, and when he did, it was only to fall into a dark dream.  
***  
  
On the morning of Monday the 1. of September, it was a warm, but clouded day.  
The Leaky Cauldron was packed with nervous parents and Hogwarts students, and according to a wizard who just had come in from the muggle part of London, the entire left side of Charing Cross Road was jammed with taxis waiting for the strange passengers to get all their animals, broomsticks and exploding fireworks into the trunks of the cars.  
As the whole lot of Weasleys and Grangers finally got out on the street, Mrs. Weasley shot a glance at her watch, and exclaimed that there was no way they were going to make it in time if they had to wait for enough cabs to come to get them all to King's Cross.  
Luckily enough, Mrs. Granger, who apparently had been reading up on the magical world during the summer, suggested that she would take Harry, Ron and the girls, plus the luggage (which now consisted of nine trunks and suitcases, three broomsticks, five handbags, three owls, one cat and a kitten) in the Grangermobile, so that Mrs. Weasley and the twins could floo to the station.  
  
Of course, if everything had followed the plan, everything would have run smoothly, and they would have arrived at King's Cross with loads of time to spare. But of course, nothing did go after the plan. For starters, Helena insisted on having her new kitten, Ebony (which oddly enough was pure white), with her, and not in her basket. Of course, as soon as they opened the basket, the kitten ran for it- straight down the street, and it took both Harry, Ron, and Ginny to catch it.   
Then, as they tried to put the kitten back into it's basket, Crookshanks threw a fit, and made the basket he was in wobble so much that Hermione's handbag, that was on top of it, fall down into the street, spilling the contents out (and of course, Ron, being the ignorant macho he was, had to pick up a tampon and ask what it was, making both Hermione and Ginny blush like tomatoes).   
When they finally got into the car and started driving, Mrs. Granger drove the wrong way not only once, but twice, the first time not noticing it until they were halfway out of London. But after much ado, they finally arrived at King's Cross, with only a few minutes to spare.   
After much hugging and kissing (and even some tears on Mrs. Granger's behalf) they finally bordered the train. When they finally got on the train, they quickly split up: The twins took off with Hecate on their tail, while Ginny hurried to the other end of the train, trying to find some of her friends. Helena and Hero had sat down in the first compartment they saw, which was packed with other nervous-looking firstyears.  
"Express seems incredibly crowded this year," observed Ron as they pushed their way through the packed corridors of the train.  
"It's because of the boom," said Hermione rationally.  
"The what?"  
"The baby boom."  
"Yes, of course, everybody knows what that is," mocked Ron.  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"During the last half of the 1970's and the early 80's, when Voldemort was in power, there were born less children into magical families than normal. And so, after the downfall of the Death Eaters, there was a baby boom in the magical society."  
Ron shook his head in exasperation.  
"Hermione- where do you learn all this things?"  
"In a very special place. It's really hard to get there, and you have to have a special membership card to get access to all the knowledge that is stored there. Do you know what this special place is called, Ron?"  
"Erm...Narnia?"  
"It's called the library. Honestly, you should pay more attention."  
"Why?" said Ron irritably.  
"Because you just passed by a perfectly nice and empty compartment." She swung the compartment door open, and gestured towards it. "Get in, you manly men."  
***  
  
The train journey was fairly uneventful. Both Hermione and Ron were fairly keen on talking about the attack on the Diggorys (Hermione had found a copy lying around the Leaky Cauldron before they left), but Harry didn't muster up enough attention to follow the two of them, and quickly fell asleep.  
~~*~~  
  
_The full moon shone down on him.  
He was standing on top of a hill, looking down.  
On the ground beneath him there were dragons- dozens of dragons, black ones, ridge-backed.  
"Like Norbert," he whispered.  
The largest one of all rose up on its back legs, and roared, spitting balls of fire into the night.  
"Quite an impressive sight, don't you think? They make good pets. Nice and deadly" said a voice from behind him.  
Harry turned, and found himself face to face with a green eyed, auburn-haired girl. Even though he couldn't remember from where, he had a feeling that he had met her before, if nowhere else than in a dream. She was smiling viciously, and he couldn't help but notice that her corner teeth were oddly pointed, almost like fangs.  
"What did you say?" he asked  
She leaned in towards him, her face only inches from his.  
"I said-"  
_"Wake up young man!"  
Harry sat bolt up. The owner of the sharp voice that had woken him up, a surly-looking witch, stared at him. Harry looked around, only to see that both Hermione and Ron were gone.  
"Eherm," said the witch.  
"Yes?"  
"Your ticket, please?"  
Harry fumbled around in his pockets, and after a few tries, he found it, all curled up.  
The witch snorted, and took out a large list.  
"Name?"  
"Harry James Potter."  
As the witch looked down her list, Hermione and Ron came back into the compartment, their arms loaded with sweets.   
"Hey, who're you?" asked Ron as they sat down. The surly witch scowled at him.   
"I'm the conductor. Tickets?"  
The two of them gave her the tickets, and she looked down her list.  
"Names and houses?"  
"Ron Weasley, Gryffindor."  
The witch trailed her quill down the list.  
"Weasley, Ronald?"  
Ron nodded, and the witch crossed him off, muttering something about juvenile delinquents who didn't say their real names.  
She turned towards Hermione.  
"And you?"  
"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor."  
The witch looked even more disgruntled as she looked down the list this time.  
"Granger, Hermione Lo-" she started, but Hermione hastily interrupted her.  
"Yes, that's me."  
  
As the conductorwitch left, Ron turned to Hermione.  
"You have a middle name?"  
Hermione nodded. "An embarrassing one, to that."  
"What is it?" asked Harry.  
"Like I'm going to tell the two of you." She blushed. "Now- conductors on the Hogwarts Express? When did that happen?"  
"It's because of You-Know-Who, I heard Dad talk about it this summer. It's 'to ensure the safety of all the students during the trip."  
Hermione giggled.  
"Thanks for the information, _Percy_."  
Ron's ears went red, and just to annoy Hermione, he began humming the tune of 'Row your boat', while muttering names under his breath.  
"Lori, Louise, Lolo, Lorraine, Logan, Lourdes, Lovinda..."  
"Not funny."  
Ron smirked.  
"It's Lovinda, right?"  
"Oh, shut up, Ron!"  
***  
  
The rest of the day passed without any other major interruptions, and it was rather late before they next heard footsteps from the corridor. The compartment door slid open, and in came-  
"Hi Harry!"   
Harry looked up from the game of chess he was playing with Hermione, and groaned inwardly as he recognised the speaker.  
"Hello, Colin."  
No one could really blame Harry for reacting the way he did. It wasn't that Colin wasn't nice, it was just the fact that he always followed Harry around, that got annoying in the long run.  
Please no photos, please no photos, thought Harry as Hermione and Ron greeted the fourthyear.  
"You haven't seen Malfoy around, have you?"   
"Malfoy?"  
"Yes, he took my camera, and I'd like to have it back."  
'Thank god', mouthed Ron behind Colin's back. Harry nodded.  
Hermione, throwing the boys a dirty look, shook her head.  
"No, sorry Colin, but I'll get it back for you when I see him." She sighed. "Really, of all things- I'd never have thought Malfoy ended up as a thief. A liar or a murderer, perhaps, but not a thief."  
Colin shrugged.  
"It's not really important. It was just an old black-and-white camera, I bought it on a flea market yesterday, haven't even tried it yet. Well- see you!"  
Ron sighed in relief, as he disappeared out the door.   
"A guy who goes around buying cameras- what a nut case."  
Hermione tutted.  
"And that comes from the wizard whose father collects plugs."  
But before Ron managed to come up with a witty comeback, the train slowed down, and came to a halt.  
***  
  
As the three of them stepped out on the platform, hot, damp air welled up against them. The sky held no stars this evening, and Harry could see dark, heavy clouds floating high over them. The air seemed to press against the students as they walked towards the horseless carriages, and Harry halfway expected a thunderstorm to break out at any second.  
There was tension in the air: the anxiety of the new students blended with the unspoken unease that filled the students that had witnessed the Third Task last year, and it was a sinister crowd that moved towards the horseless carriages.  
Harry could hear Hagrid's booming voice from far away, and only just registered the Granger triplets as they passed by him, accompanied with a giggling brunette that very much resembled Alicia Spinnet, his team-mate on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.   
"- just a tattoo! Honestly, why this curiosity?" said a voice from behind Harry. He stopped for a brief second, and shot a glance over his shoulder, only to see Draco Malfoy standing only a few metres away, speaking to one of the Slytherin girls. Even from a distance, Harry could see that he had grown several inches during the summer, and making him look thinner than ever. And with his pale skin added to that, he looked like he was carved in ice. The girl, on the other hand, was his direct opposite, with dark brown hair and eyes, and a healthy tan. She smirked as she replied.  
"I want to see it, Malfoy! Now, roll up that sleeve and show it!"  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Tattoo up Malfoy's sleeve? It couldn't possibly be-  
"Harry?"  
His head snapped back. Hermione smiled worriedly at him.  
"What are you looking at? Malfoy? Never knew blondes were your style."  
Harry frowned. "Funny, Granger. Actually," he lied, "I'm trying to remember that girl's name."  
Hermione shot the girl a look, and clucked approvingly.  
"That's Torrance Nott. She's in my arithmancy class. Very Slytherin, very wise-assed, but most of all; very smart. Now," she said, gesturing towards the carriages, "let's get going, shall we?"  
  
The two of them joined Ron, and crammed into a nearby carriage, where several secondyear girls already had taken place. Much to Harry's delight, the four girls, whose chattering had been so loud that it had carried over the whole station, shut their mouth as he got into the wagon.  
While they previously had been sitting scampered on the seats, they now squeezed together in one, eyeing Harry, Hermione, and Ron nervously.  
Hermione, who was sitting in between the two boys, leaned over.  
"Talk about nervous kids. Were we THAT afraid of our seniors when we were secondyears?" she whispered, so close to his ear that he practically could feel her lips move.  
"No, we were afraid of getting eaten by Basilisks," he whispered back. "I think it's me they're afraid of. You know- Rita Skeeter and all that."  
"They should know better," Hermione sighed, and slumped her head against his shoulder, in an unexpected act of intimacy.  
Harry turned his head and look at Ron, who was staring intently out of the window, his neck very red.  
"Oh my god," murmured Hermione.  
Harry looked down at her, and at the same time, her head snapped back up, and their respective chin and backhead bumped together with a thud.  
Wincing, Harry clutched his chin. Hermione didn't seem to notice the nasty bump forming in the back of her head, instead, she had kneeled to the floor of the carriage, frantically rummaging through the Burberry- patterned bag she usually used to carry her books in, repeating 'Oh my god'. The poor, horrified-looking secondyears drew their legs up in the seat, away from her.  
Ron turned his attention away from the window, and looked at her, apparently amused.  
"What's the matter, Hermione?"  
Hermione looked up, and answered in a dismissive tone.  
"Nothing Ron, I just thought I'd forgotten something very important at home."  
"Like what- a letter from Victor?"  
Hermione shot him a look that on the Potter scale of curses ranked somewhere between spontaneous combustion-hex and the unforgivables.  
"No- that horrible bug Skeeter!"  
"What about her?"  
"I kept her over the summer, and was planning on letting her out on Diagon Alley."  
Ron gasped.  
"You didn't!"  
Hermione nodded frantically, now holding a jar containing several plants and a single bug- Rita Skeeter.  
The carriage had now stopped, and they picked up their bags and got out.  
While the secondyears hurried up the steps to the Entrance Hall, Hermione stepped a little to the side for the carriages, and held the glass jar up. Ron and Harry followed.  
"So," said Hermione, her face propped against the glass, "I hope you've learned your lesson, Rita."  
"Yes," said Ron wannabe-wisely, "never to break the law."  
Hermione ignored him, and continued looking into the glass.  
"Never, ever mess with Hermione Granger again. Oui?" she whispered in a deadly tone of voice, before un-screwing the jar.  
As the bug took off into the night, she waved, half-heartedly yelling 'sorry!' after it.  
"You know, Hermione, you have a mean streak, you do," remarked Ron as they walked into the Entrance Hall.  
"I know," she answered while fastening her prefect's badge, "trust me Ron, I do know."  
***  
  
Even though they were among the last people that filed into the Great Hall, several free seats opened up as they sat down at the Gryffindor Table.  
Painfully aware of the fact that people were whispering and pointing at him, Harry stared straight ahead, at the High Table.  
Dumbledore was always sitting at the top of the table, flanked by Flitwick and the empty seat belonging to McGonagall. A small black witch that Harry recognised as Hermione's arithmancy teacher, professor, Vector was talking to an elderly-looking man whose face he couldn't see. Seeing as he didn't know any old, respectable looking professors at Hogwarts (Dumbledore no withstanding, of course), Harry guessed that he was the new Defence against Dark Arts teacher. Judging from the conversations he heard along the Gryffindor table, he wasn't the only one who had drawn this conclusion. He turned to ask Ron what he thought, but stopped the wooden doors opened.  
In came Hagrid, carrying a three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. He sat the stool down in front of the High Table, and placed the Hat on top of it.   
As soon as he had taken his place between sour, scowling, professor Snape and the ghostly Binns, the door once more opened, revealing professor McGonagall. She was leading what (to Harry) seemed like an unchristly amount of first years. The lot of them walked up between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's tables, and came to a halt in front of the Sorting Hat.  
For a moment, all was quiet, but then, the Hat's brim started to move.  
  
_I bid good day to you one and all,  
Now don't be surprised, don't take a fall!  
I may be a hat, but talk also,  
But now, without much further ado,  
Let me present you the founders four,  
Who gave names to our houses forevermore:  
First came Rowena, smart as few,  
Knowledge never bid her 'adieu'  
You could never her book from her sever  
Which is why her pupils are wise and clever!  
The second one to join was the sly Slytherin  
Are you ambitious and shrewd you're his next of kin.  
But do beware! In the house of the Snake  
They only take the real thing, and never the fake!  
The third one to follow was Gryffindor himself  
Whose proud head I once used as a shelf.  
This daring Scotsman was a brave old fellow  
Loyal and noble, and never mellow.  
Our last proud founder was merry Hufflepuff  
Of hardworking pupils her house never get enough  
If you are friendly and easy to trust  
You will find your friends in those Hufflepuffs just.  
But now, let me you into a house sort,  
To be your residence at Hogwarts, the honourable fort.  
So put me on you head  
Do not fear or dread  
I've never been wrong yet;  
So now, let me tell you were your future's set!  
  
_As the students applauded the sorting song, McGonagall took out her list of names, and gave the instructions to the First Years, before calling out the first name.  
"Bode, Salomon."  
A small boy with black hair strode forward, but as he put on the Hat, Harry could see that his hands were trembling. He felt sympathetic for him; he remembered very well his own fear at the Sorting Ceremony, and when the hat called out 'Ravenclaw!', he was among the ones that clapped the hardest.  
After a little while, 'Bunton, Victoria' became the first Gryffindor, and was heartily greeted by Dennis Creevey and his friends.  
The sorting continued- C, D, E, F- and finally, 'G'.  
During the whole ceremony, the Hall been filled with the sound of low conversation, but as McGonagall called out the name 'Granger, Hecate' the noise rose to a new level.  
Despite the anticipating looks and frantic whispering around her, Hecate seemed to take everything very calmly, and simply strolled up and put the hat on, beaming at everybody around her.  
She didn't have to wait long for response: almost immediately, the hat shouted:  
"Gryffindor!"  
The cheering was above any other, and as Hecate skipped down to the Gryffindor table, the twins budged up and made room for her between the two of them.  
"If you are quite finished-" said McGonagall sharply, before continuing on her list.   
"Granger, Helena!"  
As she made her way up to the hat, Helena seemed much less at ease with the staring than her sister.  
Hermione leaned over to Harry.  
"Poor thing, she hates attention. Now, Hecate on the other hand-" she said glumly, throwing glances at Hecate, who was having a mock-boxing fight with Fred Weasley. The two of them seemed to notice her gaze, because they immedliaty stopped joking and looked up, just in time to see Helena's face light up with the biggest smile as the hat announced that she was now a   
"Ravenclaw!"  
The blue table greeted her just as loudly as the red one had greeted Hecate, but this time, only a look from McGonagall was enough to make them calm down. However, it was only for a short time, because as she read Hero's name, the hall once more exploded in whispers. Harry picked up only short brocks of conversations, like Hecate whispering 'that's my sister', and Millicent Bullstrode's 'there's another one?'.  
Unlike her sisters, she didn't show any emotions as she put the hat on. Not glowing anticipation, nor trembling anxiousness, only calm resignation.  
And then, only a short moment after she sat down, the hat's brim opened.  
"Slytherin!"  
And at that moment, the Great Hall froze. Not a single word escaped a single lip, and the sound of Pansy Parkinson's fork hitting the floor seemed to bellow through the room.  
Then- Hermione began clapping. The hall seemed to move again, and she was joined by both Helena and Hecate, and most of the teachers. Slowly, others began to pick up on the trail that Hermione had started, and through the corner of his eye, Harry could see that even Draco Malfoy was making an effort of applauding and looking, if not friendly, then at least not openly hostile.  
  
The sorting continued, and even though Harry stopped counting after 'Spinnet, Cher' became a Ravenclaw, he estimated that there were more than 100 students this year.  
But finally, when the Sorting Hat announced that 'Xantippe, Plato' was a Ravenclaw, the sorting ended. While McGonagall put the hat and three-legged chair away, Dumbledore stood up, and motioned for the students to calm down.   
Like always, his mere presence demanded respect, and although he looked very old and tired, Harry couldn't help but feel much more calm now than he had been all summer. Upon seeing some of the looks on the other students' faces, he guessed that he wasn't the only one.  
Dumbledore smiled warmly at them.  
"Welcome," he said, "to another school year here at Hogwarts."  
He stopped for a moment, perhaps to create dramatic effect, perhaps to think.  
"It is my pleasure as Headmaster, to greet new and old students to our castle, for what I hope will be a school year not entirely filled with homework and old dingbats like me, but also quidditch, fun and friendship. But- it is also my duty to remind you of the events that took place last year, and the impact it had on us all.  
As you may all know, Hogwarts lost a student last year- a bright young man, the very embodiment of his house, and perhaps one of the most noble champions ever to represent this school."  
He looked around, and for a brief moment, his gaze lingered on a black-haired girl at the Ravenclaw table- Cho Chang.  
"Cedrik Diggory's death must never be forgotten, because his fate might had been anyone in this room's. But we must also continue our lives."  
He cleared his throat once more.  
"Because of the circumstances around the events of last term, our Defence Against Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody, have chosen not to keep his teaching position here at Hogwarts. However, we have this year someone equally, if not more experienced, teaching. Let me present you the new teacher- please welcome Mundungus Fletcher!"  
The man next to Vector stood up, and Harry almost choked when he recognised the name.  
"Ron- isn't that the wizard that tried to hex your dad two years ago?"  
The red-head shrugged.  
"I dunno- could be him. But then again, Dad get hexed a lot."  
Seeing the look on Harry's face, he added "It comes with the job- he does work with ridding the world of weird people's charmed things. And honestly- if you were a strange, old man and a red-headed, even stranger wizard came and took your favourite hexed teacup- wouldn't you be mad?"  
Harry grinned, before looking back at the High Table. Fletcher had now sat down again, and Dumbledore continued his speech.  
"I am sure professor Fletcher will be at use for our school."  
"Get on with it, man! I'm starved!" someone behind Harry bellowed. Recognising the voice, Harry didn't have to turn to know that it was Seamus, one of his own classmates.  
Dumbledore smiled.  
"I'm afraid I will have to take up your valuable eating time for a few more minutes, Mr. Finnigan, but I can assure you that the info I'm about to give most certainly will interest you. As many of you may know, until a few years ago, our honoured school participated in the Merlin Exchange Program, which exchanged students between different countries. But, after several unfortunate incidents involving some Brazilian students in 1982, the school board decided that Hogwarts was to end its part in the program. However, the time has now come for our school to once again enter the program. And not only will our fourth years get penfriends in another country, but all our fifth years will also be offered the possibility of spending 7 months of this school year at the Mjolngard School of Sorcery in Scandinavia.  
In this very moment, owls carrying informative letters are being sent out to your parents and guardians, and seeing as the departure will be already on the First of October, I urge each and every fifth year to write home and ask for permission to go."  
Contrasting the loud whispers that had sounded through the Hall only minutes ago, the silence was now total.   
"Well," said Dumbledore, "the only thing left to say now, is_ bon apetite_!" The gold plates filled up with food, but no one ate anything, they just stared at Dumbledore.  
The old headmaster chuckled.  
"Not so hungry anymore, Mr. Finnegan? I believe our house-elves will be very displeased if their lovely food goes untouched. And we don't want berserk house-elves now, do we?"  
"N-no sir, said Seamus nervously. "Dean- pass me the kidney-pie, will you?"  
***  
  
Seeing as he was starved, Harry ignored all attempts from his classmates to strike up conversations, and wolfed down anything that touched his plate. As his hunger slowly dispersed, he looked around the Hall.  
His eyes stopped at the Ravenclaw table, where Mandy Brocklehurst and Terry Boot was setting on a public display by snogging heavily almost on top of the table. Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he met Cho Chang's gaze. She too had been following the couple's antics, an when Harry raised his eyebrow, she mouthed 'Got air?', and pointed at the two of them. For a split second, he thought about raising his goblet in a silent salute, but a dirty look from Sarah Fawcett (who apart from being one of Cho's best friends, also had been Cedrik's cousin) stopped him. Seeing as several of the other Ravenclaw girls now were scowling at him too, Harry found it best to focus on something else than the black-haired girl.  
Fortunately enough, diversion came in the form of a loud Irishman- Seamus had once again attracted the attention of the room with a loud comment about the food (this time about the Freudian symbolic within a sausage).  
"Honestly," said Hermione, "by the way he's tittering on, you'd think he was drunk!"  
Lavender, who was sitting next to her, grinned. "He is, Hermione, he is!"  
"What?"  
The blonde nodded.  
"He's got a bottle of brandy inside his robe, been gulping from it since Norfolk."  
"That's against school regulations!"  
Lavender shrugged.  
"I know, I know- Parvati's been pointing it out every ten minutes since he started drinking, but you know-"  
"Men!" they both concluded, followed by heavy sighs. However, Lavender quickly perked up.  
"But then again," she said, throwing Seamus a yearning look, "it does have its upside, having someone that cute, that drunk."   
Hermione shot her an alarmed look.  
"You wouldn't... I mean, that's just evil!"  
"I know."  
"But Lava, you do know that-"  
Whatever it was Hermione was about to say, Lavender didn't catch it, seeing as she at that point stood up, and walked down to Seamus. As she sat down next to him, she put her arms around him, receiving a drunken kiss on the cheek as thanks.  
Hermione shook her head.  
"You know, we really SHOULD report him, after all, that is our job as prefects after all."  
"But we won't, right?"  
Hermione smiled at him.  
"Not tonight. I have too much on my mind for that- when all comes too, who could ever see this coming!"  
Harry nodded.  
"Very unexpected, yes."  
"What really worries me is the situation- with the dark lord rising and all, why would Dumbledore send us away from Hogwarts? And our year- with you?"  
Harry swallowed and forced a grin.  
"Don't worry 'bout it, Hermione. The Dursleys probably won't let me go anyway."  
"Well if you're not going, we're not going either. Right, Ron?" she said to their red-headed friend.  
Ron, who was still eating, shook his head.  
"I dunno- I mean, Scandinavia's bloody cold, right? Might get that chance to push Malfoy off a glacier after all!" he said, spluttering food and spit everywhere.  
"Why, thanks for the shower, Ron," Hermione said dryly, dusting breadcrumbs off her robe. "But there's another thing that bothers me too-"  
"What, the rod up your romp?"  
"Ha-ha, very funny. But, if you don't want hear it, and so on." She looked down at the table, and seeing as Ron was staring out into eternity where her head had been, Harry felt it necessary to change the subject.  
"So- your sister, a Slytherin. Very...strange."  
Hermione shrugged.  
"Not really, she's always been very determined." Silence. "Plus, I dropped her on her head when she was little."  
Ron stifled a laugh.  
"Good one, Hermione."  
"It wasn't a joke," she said shortly. "But excuse me, I have some business to settle with the Head Boy."  
As they watched her walk across the hall, to the Hufflepuff table, Harry chuckled.  
"Smooth, oh running weasel."  
"I knooow," said Ron, and banged his head into the table. "I'm stupid, stupid, STUPID!"  
"Can't disagree with you on that one, Weasley!" bellowed Malfoy, who apparently had overheard him.  
"Well," said Harry to Ron, "it could be worse. You could be as stupid him."  
Ron nodded, looking down in his food.  
"Got a point there," he said quietly, before looking up at Harry.  
The two of them collapsed in laughter, but quickly silenced as Dumbledore once again stood up to speak.  
"To eat, or not to eat, that SHOULD be the question, and I sincerely hope the lot of you have chosen the first. But now, the time draws near for us all to find our beds, and a good night's sleep. The only thing that is left to do, is to sing our beloved school song."  
As always, everyone in the entire Hall sung the song on a different tune, and after four years of practice, Harry didn't even have to look up at the golden letters issuing from Dumbledore's wand while singing.  
Like always, everybody finished differently, but this time, the Weasley twins (who had made it a tradition of finishing last) had to see themselves beat by a girl whose soprano voice twisted and twirled the words into a velvet band that surrounded the entire hall. Through the crowd of students, Harry couldn't see the originator of the voice, but as the last tone faded out in the silence, he hoped that someone would compliment her later.  
"And with that," Dumbledore smiled, "I declare the new school year opened. But now; let's to our beds, all and one."  
  
Like everyone else, Harry stood up to walk to the dorms, but quickly sat down again as Ron violently tugged his sleeve.  
"What?" he said irritably.  
"We've got to wait for Hermione, she hasn't come back from that 'head boy business' yet."  
"Why? She can find her way back herself. I'm tired!"  
Ron shot him a pleading look.  
"Stay, please? It'll look weird if I wait for her all by myself. Please?"  
Harry sighed, and nodded.  
"Okay," he said, "but just for the record, you owe me one."  
Gradually, the Hall became emptier as the students filed out, and as Cho Chang passed by, she flashed him a brilliant smile that made Harry blush and realise exactly what made Ron wait for Hermione.  
But as the minutes and students went by, it became clear that Hermione was no longer in the Hall, and it wasn't until they were halfway through the entrance hall they once again heard her voice.  
"Can't believe the three of you, all different houses!"  
Ron and Harry followed her voice, and found her standing next to the marble staircase with her sisters.  
Helena smirked as they joined them, and Hero coughed something that sounded remarkably like 'loverboy'.  
Ron shot her a nasty look.  
"Shut up, Slytherin."  
She cocked her head in response.  
"Do I sense a discriminating attitude based on houses here?"  
Hermione laughed.  
"That's the inter-house rivalry in a nutshell, Hero. Better get used to it now than later."  
"For once, I agree with you, Granger, and that is not a pleasant experience. All offence intended."  
They turned, and found themselves face to face with Draco Malfoy.  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" snarled Ron, reaching for his wand.  
The pale slytherin's lip curled. "Except telling mini-Granger she better move along with her classmates, nothing."  
Ron scowled at him. "What do you care anyway?"  
Malfoy straightened his robes, and Harry caught sight of a silvery prefect's badge among the folds.  
"I do care, Weasel, because unlike you friends, I take my responsibilities seriously."  
Hermione strode forward, almost into the Slytherin.  
"And what's that supposed to mean?"  
Malfoy, who had grown during the summer, looked down at her.  
"Just that it is the fifth year prefects' jobs to get the newly sorted to the common room. I'd really expect you to know that."  
"Of course I know!" she spluttered.  
"Really?" said Malfoy. "Then where are your firstyears?"  
Hermione's jaw dropped as she looked around, up the staircase, and then back at Malfoy, speechless.  
He smirked.  
"That's what I thought." He nudged Hero in the side, his hands carefully covered by the sleeves of his robes. "Now come along here, Mini-Granger, we don't have all night."  
As he strode down towards the dungeons with Hero racing behind him, Hermione grabbed Harry's robe, and dragged him up the staircase, telling him that they had to find the first years.  
"Take it easy, Hermione," Ron laughed from behind them.  
Hermione snorted, and said "Ron Weasley, you are unbelievable!", something that made Ron hurry up considerably.  
  
Despite her short legs (unlike both Harry and Malfoy, she was still gnome-sized, and had limbs thereafter), it was amazing how swiftly she moved down the corridors and up the stairs, and Ron and Harry had to run to keep up with her.  
They were almost at the portrait hole when they caught up with the first years, and Hermione rushed past them.  
"Excuse me," she said loudly, "let me through, I'm a prefect! Who is it tha-oh!"  
Both Harry and Ron followed, and their surprise was big when they, like Hermione, saw that the prefect that had been leading the young ones was Neville.  
"Neville!" exclaimed Ron. "They made YOU prefect?"  
Neville, who obviously decided to ignore the dubious tone in Ron's voice, simply smiled.  
"Yeah, I think professor Sprout put in a good word or two for me."  
"Good for you!" said Hermione. "Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"  
~~*~~  
  
Together, Harry, Hermione and Neville (with the help of Ron's tall and for a first year, intimidating statue) managed to get the firstyears to the common room, and as the last student disappeared through the door to the girl's dorms, the boys said 'night' to Hermione (who insisted on giving all three of them a goodnight-hug each), and walked up the stairs to their dormitory.  
There, Dean Thomas was packing out, while Seamus was mysteriously missing.  
"'Evening," Dean said as they entered.  
"To you too," Neville replied. "Where's Seamus?"  
Dean shrugged.  
"Disappeared. With Lavender." He said the last with a surprising tone of bitterness in his voice.  
"And his brandy," said Ron. "Let's not forget the brandy."  
Dean just grunted in response, and said something that sounded remarkably like 'slut' as he put out the light.  
Only minutes or so after they had all gone to bed, the door to the stairs swung open, and in came Seamus.   
"Isch everybody happy?" he yelled, a noticeable slur to his voice.  
Harry rolled over, and tried to ignore the light streaming in through the open door.  
"Isch everybody happy?" Seamus repeated, and started singing what sounded like 'we will rock you'.  
Neville, who obviously had received a bit of spine with his prefect's badge, sat up.  
"Go to bed, Seamus," he said soberly.  
This shut up him up, and close the door. Harry could hear him walking across the floor, cursing lightly as he walked into furniture. The noise he made was impossible to block out, but as Harry heard the blankets being ruffled in another bed, he resumed what he had been trying before: to get a good night's sleep.  
However, only seconds later, Neville's voice once more rang out.  
"Your own bed, Seamus. Not mine."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Read? Review!


	3. You Know So Well

Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder  
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters and places are intellectual property of JK Rowling, and the song "You know so well" is property of Sondre Lerche.  
A/N: Ah, the ff.net is finally up again! This chapter is dedicated Me_160286, good friend, although I'd be very happy if he stopped calling me in the middle of the night (and yes, that IS a hint). I really hope this makes up for the other fic I dedicated to him, 'boys, boys'.  
I also want to (once again) thank Shkspr, who was very helpful when it came to naming the American magic school. ***glomps Shkspr and Me*  
**~~*~~  
  
**Chapter 3: You know so Well  
**  
_Use every chance you've been given  
She replied, after several days She has no need to be perfect  
You know so well, things are easy to tell   
There is one thing I  
know  
It goes like this  
It's that when I'm down and out it's you I miss…  
  
_Much to Harry's despair, being back at Hogwarts didn't seem to stop the bad dreams, and when he woke up the next morning it was with red, swollen eyes. The dream had been worse than ever: he had actually felt the knife cutting through his skin, felt the blood flow down his arm, flow over him, felt himself being engulfed in a giant pool of his own blood, drowning in it, in a way, drowning in himself.  
As he got out of bed, he had no other wish than taking a long, hot shower, but even that plan was spoiled: apparently, Seamus had, under the strong influence of his brandy, snogged Lavender after the feast, and now seemed quite intent on scrubbing off every inch of skin that had touched hers. However, as he joined Ginny Weasley on her way down to breakfast, he was starting to feel better as he sat down at the Gryffindor table, opposite Hermione and Ron. They bid him good morning, and not wanting to have them, or anyone else, prying about his red eyes, he replied with a forced smile on his face.   
"I'll say, you're as moody as Lavender during PMS," said Seamus, who was sitting next to Hermione. "Laughing one minute, crying the other."  
"And you would know that, wouldn't you?" Dean dryly remarked from further down the table.  
Seamus looked up, and his smile faltered at the sight of the other boy.  
"Dean."  
"Seamus."  
The two of them had an intense stare-down for twenty seconds or so, before Seamus abruptly stood up and stalked off.  
"What was that all about?" Harry quietly asked Ron.  
"Dunno, but I'll bet it's because of Lavender."  
"You mean- Dean... Lavender?"  
Ron shrugged.  
"Unlikely pair, hm?"  
Hermione tutted loudly.  
"What?" Ron asked irritably.  
She shook her head.  
"You boys are so dense."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Nothing, nothing," she replied airy. "Oh look, new schedules! Here you go!"  
Ron groaned as he examined the timetables.  
"All day torture! Blimey, what've I done to deserve this?"  
"What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked courtly. "My day's excellent! Two hours arithmancy first, then there's that...erm... rather unfortunate hour of potions, then two transfiguration."  
"Yeah, well, at least you won't have to put up with that dingbat Trelawney first in the morning!"  
"It's your own fault, you don't HAVE to take that subject. In fact, you should really take muggle studies."  
"And why is that?"  
"Oh, well, say if you're going to spend a vacation in a muggle household..." Hermione drifted off.  
Ron grimaced.  
"Why would I want to do that?"  
Harry jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.  
"Ouch, what was that fo- oh," he said as Harry pointed to their female friend. "Sure, Hermione, muggle studies sounds fascinating, but it's too late to-"  
The end of the sentence was drowned in the sound of thousands of owls flying through the hall, delivering letters and packages to and fro.  
Harry's own owl, Hedvig, was nowhere to be seen, and, noted Harry, neither was the eagle owl that used to deliver Draco Malfoy sweets every morning. Instead, there was a large, black raven hovering above his head, and Malfoy himself looked as though he wished the earth would open up and swallow him. Harry was about to comment on the very unusual sight, when a loud outburst distracted both him and the rest of the table enough to look up from whatever they were doing.  
"Hermione!" spluttered Ron, "did you just say-"  
Putting her hand over Ron's mouth, Hermione quickly prevented him in repeating the foul words she so uncharacteristically had uttered, and shoved the newest edition of the Daily Prophet into his face.  
"Read this!" On the front of the newspaper, in war-types, it read: HOGWARTS TO VISIT DEATH EATERS?  
Harry gaped.  
"What the-"  
Hermione snatched the newspaper back, and started reading the article aloud.  
" DUMBLEDORE'S DARK MAGIC SHOCK  
_It seems that Hogwarts' headmaster is finding shocking innocent parents and the ministry of magic more entertaining than ever these days. Our esteemed readers probably still have Rita Skeeter's reports on a Hogwarts seemingly gone mad from last year in mind, and more than one parent was shocked by the news that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named supposedly was responsible for the death of a seventhyear student at the end of last term.  
However, if we thought we never could see or hear worse, we were fooled.  
It appears, that without even alerting the ministry of magic, Hogwarts has re-entered the Merlin Exchange Program.  
The exchange program was started already in the darkest Medieval Ages, by the headmasters and -mistresses of the five oldest magical schools in the world: the American Coyote Academy, the Brazilian school Colemago Institute, the Mjolngard School of Sorcery, the Chinese Kang-Lin Centre, and our very own Hogwarts. In 1982, after several years of controversy surrounding the program, the Hogwarts school board decided that Hogwarts was to leave it, and it has not since participated.   
Yesterday, however, all parents of fifth years at Hogwarts received news that not only will their children be asked to spend their school year far away from their home country, no, they will also be staying at the infamous Mjolngard School of Sorcery!_" Hermione paused, and turned to Harry. "Infamous? How can it be infamous when it's not even mentioned in An Appraisal of Magical Education of Europe?" She continued reading.  
"_Very little is known about this Scandinavian school, but it is generally reckoned as the oldest magical school still in business, and had until few years ago one of the largest libraries in the world. Its exact location has never been disclosed, but is rumoured to be somewhere in the mountain areas between Norway and Sweden. The school is also famous for its hard acceptance tests, and high expectations to its students.  
Sounds like a good school?  
Think again!  
After the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in 1981, the Mjolngard was accused of consorting with the Dark Side. Investigations of the school showed that even though the curriculum does put emphasis on learning and understanding charms and curses commonly recognised as 'dark', it was impossible to prove that the school promoted Death Eating, and charges were dropped. The school was later banned from the International Confederation of Wizard's Education Board because of its open line on the dark arts. For a short while the school was also excluded from the exchange program.  
Even though the school's exclusion from the Merlin Program was undone, parents have been critical about sending their children to this scandalous establishment, and when Dumbledore now sends our children there, he is the first headmaster to do so in 15 years.  
So what we now must ask ourselves is: Dumbledore- is this the man you really want to entrust your children?_"  
  
She looked up from the newspaper.  
"This can't be true! I mean, a dark arts school?"  
Ron snorted.  
"You didn't seem to mind when it was Vicky of Durmstrang, did you?"  
"That was different, that was rumours, and they were here! But this- this is on paper! Black and white! And we're going there!"   
"You shouldn't believe everything you read, Hermione, it's probably just rumours anyway," lied Harry, who was quite unnerved by the news himself. "Do you really think Dumbledore would let us go if it's dangerous?"  
Hermione shook her head, and agreed that no, Dumbledore would never let them get hurt, but the look on her face as she hurried off to Arithmancy said that she, like Harry himself, still wasn't convinced.  
***  
  
After finishing their breakfast, Harry and Ron slouched off to Divination.   
"You know," said Ron, "Hermione's so bitchy sometimes."  
"What, she stole your favourite lipstick?" said Terry Boot, who had joined them.  
"Ha. Ha," Ron mocked. "So, what lucky teacher will you be favouring with your wits today, Boot?"  
Terry chuckled.  
"And you tell me I have a bad sense of humour?"  
Ron raised an eyebrow, not caring.  
"Anyway," continued Terry, "I'm off to see the wicked witch of the north tower, Trelawney herself."  
"Divination? We have divination now, you can't!"  
Harry coughed.  
"Actually, Ron... we have divination together this year."  
Ron didn't respond, but his ears went very red.  
"So," said Harry to Terry, "where's your better half?"  
"Mandy? She went ahead with some of her friends. They're probably dissecting and analysing everything I've said, done or written during the last 24 hours." He grinned. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. But speaking of girls... Harry, I heard you arrived at the Leaky Cauldron with Hermione Granger this year."  
"Yeah, so?"  
"So? Are the two of you... an item?"  
Harry's jaw dropped.  
"No, we're just friends."  
Terry grinned smugly.  
"I bet you are. Hey, Ron, wait!"  
Because at the mention of Hermione Granger as part of an item, Ron had sped up, leaving both Harry and Terry had to run to catch up with him.  
  
They arrived at the base of the North Tower at about the same time as the bell rang, and were the last to climb up the ladder.  
The room was more full than they were used to, probably because of the Ravenclaws, and the boys had no other choice than to sit down next to Lavender and Parvati, who were discussing last night's events, using words that Harry didn't know what meant, but had a feeling he really didn't WANT to know, anyway. However, they quickly shut their blabs when their dingbat-like teacher professor Trelawney stepped out of the shadows.  
"Good day," she said airily. "The spirits wish me to inform you that this term, we will be studying the symbolics and predictions made out of numbers, in pairs of two and two."  
The students started shuffling around to get to work with their usual partners, but Trelawney raised her hand.  
"Because we will be working a long time with this, it is important that we do it with someone that is alike ourselves. Therefore, I have conferenced with the divine powers that be, which gave me a list to follow when partnering up students, based on their spiritual kinness."  
Ron leaned over.  
"Is that even a word?"  
"I don't think so."  
Trelawney shot them a severe look before continuing.  
"So- here are the pairs: Brown and Boot, Finnegan and Brocklehurst,"  
"That's not divine foreseeing," Ron whispered as Neville sat down next to Katy Burkes, "that's inter-house pairing by the alphabet."  
Seconds later, Parvati Patil was paired off with a boy named Carrington, and Harry was already on his way over to Morag MacDougal when Trelawney called out the last expected thing in the world:  
"Potter and Chang!"  
Harry stopped dead. There was no way-  
"Harry, over here!" said a voice behind him.  
He turned, and there, next to Lisa Turpin, sat Cho Chang.  
His entire body numb, Harry somehow managed to get over to the corner table she was sitting at, and slid down in the seat next to Cho, Cedrik's Cho, talented seeker Cho, beautiful -  
  
"Harry, Harry!"  
His eyes snapped back in focus, only to see HER staring at him dully, waving her hand in front of him.  
"Are you okay? You..drifted off for a minute or so."  
Harry groaned inwardly. Nice, now she would think he was mad too.  
"I'm sorry, I'm not completely awake yet." He grinned apologetically. "I'm not a morning person."  
"That's all right, I'm not either. And add Trelawney to that..."  
Harry nodded, and looked down on the chart they Trelawney had given out.  
"So, what are we supposed to do?"  
"Well, it's rather like muggle arithmancy. The first thing is to calculate the sum of our names."  
"The what?"  
"The sum, like this: H is 8, A is 1, R is 18, the other R is also 18, and the Y is 25. Together, that is 70, 7 plus 0 is 7, therefore, your cosmic number," she glanced up at him "Harry Potter, is 7."  
Harry stared a her, dumbstruck, then looked at her calculations, the chart, and back at her again."  
"Wow, that was...fast."  
She smiled.  
"Thank you, but it's not a big deal. I had this last year too."  
"So... why are you in this class, if you did it last year?"  
She looked down at the table.  
"Because of the OWLs, some of the exams were after the Third.." she paused, "the Third task. And, well, after the task...I was.... I failed the exam, so I have to take the class over again."  
"Oh."  
Suddenly, Trelawney swooped down on them, her many bracelets and beads rattling.  
"So, how are we doing?"  
Cho smiled an obviously forced smiled.  
"Very good, actually."  
"And your cosmic numbers?"  
"Harry is a seven, and I'm a...six."  
Trelawney nodded.  
"Ah, yes.. 6, the number for grief and sorrow. And 7, ah, the number of...premature death."  
And with that, she moved on to the next table, the scent of her heavy perfume lingering.  
"You know," said Cho, "I think the only reason she did this alphabetic thing, was that so she could pair us up, and save her breath by predicting doom for us both at the same time."  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Whatever makes you say that?" he mocked.  
"I'm not sure, but the fact that she last year told me that the cosmic number 6 stands for eternal happiness and love, could have something to do with it."  
Harry swallowed hard.  
"I'm really sorry about Cedrik. He was always nice too me."  
She nodded, her eyes watering up.  
"Yes, he was a good person. Maybe too good for this world sometimes."  
They continued their work in silence, only speaking when necessary. After class, Trelawney held the two of them back to help her rig up the crystal balls for the next class, and this was how it came that the two of walked together, still in silence. It was not until they reached the third floor, that Cho spoke.  
"So...Mjolngard. Sounds..."  
"...dark," finished Harry.  
"Yes," she agreed as she stopped at a corner. "Very dark, indeed."  
Harry nodded, and Cho smiled.  
"Well, this is my stop. Charms next," she said.  
"Oh," said Harry. "I guess I'll have to wish you luck, then."   
Cho laughed.  
"Don't worry, I'm not THAT bad at it."  
For a moment, they just stood there. Then, Cho quickly gave him a hug, muttered 'bye', and disappeared down the corridor, leaving a flustered Harry behind.  
***  
  
Because of his slow speed, Harry was a minute too late, but Snape didn't seem to mind. He was busy writing down ingredients on the chalkboard, and simply greeted him with the standard '10 points of Gryffindor'.  
Harry found his between Hermione and Ron (the latter didn't seem happy about this, but as Hermione already had drawn out the chair, he couldn't very well say no, either), and got his book out.  
"Where were you?"  
"Walked with Cho, tell you about it later. Have I missed anything?"  
Ron shook his head.  
"Nah, Snape's just been standing there, writing. No name for the potion, though. You reckon he's gonna make us do it, and then dare someone to drink it?"  
Hermione, leaned forward and shot them both a stern look. "Snape may be evil, but he's not stupid. Or deaf, for that matter."  
"Meaning what?" Ron hissed.  
"Meaning keep you voices down, Weasley and Potter," said Snape, who had put down the chalk and turned around. "That will be an additional ten points from Gryffindor. But also, seeing as the good Mr. Potter is feeling very needy when it comes to talking today, perhaps he can tell the class what potion it is that have these ingredients?" He gestured towards the chalkboard.  
Harry quickly read through the list. "Lacewinged flies, boomslang skin...Polyjuice Potion?"  
Snape smirked.  
"Somehow, I didn't doubt you knew that." He looked around the room.  
"The Polyjuice potion," he stated, "is a transfiguring potion, which change you into another person. It is a complex potion, as it takes at least 21 days to make, and among the many ingredients is a body part of person you want to change into. Today, we are going to take notes on this potion, and I will expect an essay on the main uses and complications of this potion. We will not be making it in class, however, I would advise you all be thorough in your research, seeing this may come up on your OWLs and definitely on the exams. So, get to work!"  
Harry simply stared. Snape had been civil, non-despotic, and had not subtracted more than 20 points from Gryffindor.  
It was Millicent Bulstrode that voiced the thought faring through every student's mind at that moment.  
"Professor...are you sick?"  
Snape's lip curled, and he barked back in response:  
"Of course not, Bulstrode! Now get to work!"  
  
As they started working, Ron leaned over.  
"Number one: what was Cho doing in our class? Number two: why did the two of you stay behind? Snogging session?"  
"At Trelawneys? Very kinky."  
Ron rolled his eyes.  
"You know what I mean, com'on, tell me!"  
Harry started telling Ron about what had happened.  
"She hugged you?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Nothing big, not like Hermione hugs (at this, their friend's cheeks reddened), just cheek against cheek."  
Ron's eyes darkened.  
"I know what you mean, Ginny and her girl friends does that all the time, while emitting high squealing noises. Usually when they part, saying 'baibai, bimbi!'."  
"Sans the squealing and bimbi-thing, that's what happened," replied Harry. "So what does this mean, that I'm one of her girl friends now?"  
"Not unless you have failed to tell us something very important," Hermione whispered. "And shut up, both of you, I'm trying to work."  
Ron rolled his eyes, but quickly got back to the book as Hermione kicked his leg under the table.  
And as Harry heard him mutter "violent bitch.." under his breath, he couldn't help but smile and think that the two of them would make a cute couple.  
***  
  
The rest of the day went by fairly uneventful; lunch was none the extraordinary (not counting the food-fight the firstyears, led by Hecate, started), History of Magic was just as stale as the professor, the long-passed Binns, and it was not until Katie Bell, one of the Gryffindor chasers, had hit him over the head about five times that she managed to get it through to Harry that a crisis meeting for the quidditch-team had been scheduled at 8 P.M. that evening.  
Which was why he later that day found himself hurrying down towards the pitch in the dark of an evening with no stars or moon.  
The ground was slippery and muddy; the thunder storm Harry had been expecting the night before having come that afternoon instead. This was not ideal at the moment, seeing as he was half-running, being late (in his defence, it had to be said that this was not entirely his fault, seeing as Ginny had asked him for help with her homework, wearing an extremely skimpy singlet. And after all, he was just a boy, right?). He smiled at the mere thought, taking his eyes off the ground for a moment. This, he shouldn't have done, because with a dull *thud* the great Harry Potter slipped, and fell headlong over.  
And it was here, on the ground, with dirt on his clothes and leaves in his hair, that Harry had first encounter with Draco Malfoy that semester.  
  
"Now Potter, just because they say it's healthy for the skin to take mudbaths, it doesn't mean you should over-do it, does it?"  
Harry quickly gathered himself up, startled. The blond Slytherin had come out of nowhere, as silent as a cat.   
"Well, you would know about that, wouldn't you? After all, it did take care of those curse scars we put on you last June. But," he twirled his wand between his fingers, "if you want, I can put them back on."  
Malfoy cocked his head, and leered.  
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You are ...not... funny." He rolled his eyes. "Now excuse me, Potter, I have an appointment."  
"With what? The mirror?"  
Malfoy turned, and Harry stepped back, expecting to be the victim of the Slytherin's short temper. Malfoy, however, just gave him a cold look.  
"At least I don't have an ugly scar in the middle of my face. Can't say the same for you, though, 'Wonderboy McPublicity'."  
"Hey, I'm not-"  
"Oh, admit it already, Potter. Despite what you like to tell yourself, you know as well as I that the world is watching you- your achievements, your girlfriends, even your bloody quidditch matches. Scar-boy with the Firebolt, that's you."  
"Yeah, well, I see you've got yourself one too." Harry gestured towards the broom Malfoy was carrying.   
"It's not a Firebolt, it's a Twigger- for racing, not quidditch."  
"You mean- you've quit the team?"  
Malfoy nodded, his face expressionless.  
"I just don't see the point anymore, that's all. Plus, we have OWLs this year."  
"Yeah- that, and the fact that you're tired of loosing to me all the time."  
For a moment, there was cold fire in Malfoy's eyes, but all he did was push Harry down to the ground again as he rushed by on his way to the castle.  
Within moments, he was gone, swallowed by the darkness of the night.  
  
Harry skidded into the locker room just as the Katie, the new captain, called for them to calm down. As she stood up to talk, he slid down between the Weasley twins. He wasn't surprised to see that Lee Jordan was there too, seeing as his vast knowledge of quidditch made him a good advisor to the team. That, and the fact that he and Katie were dating.  
"Okay, order, order! I hereby declare this meeting of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team opened!"  
George, who was sitting next to Harry, leaned over.  
"Katie'sh ghoing to be a judge when she growsh up," he said in a childish voice, making Harry smile.  
"Very funny, George," Katie said. "But to the point- we have a serious problem."  
"Problem?" piped Fred.  
She nodded.  
"Yes. Not only do we need a keeper and a chaser, but now, we need to find a substitute for our seeker too." Katie paused. "Now, before Oliver graduated, he left a list of possible candidates for the keeper position, so that's easy. Finding a seeker is harder- but if all else fails, Sally has said that she could step in."  
Harry was puzzled.  
"Sally?" he whispered to George, who nodded in response.  
"Sally Capper, she played seeker before you, she's in our year. Her parents made her quit the team after she hurt her back in finals."  
"But- if her parents won't let her-"  
"Let's just say Sally got her groove back. If she wants to play, she will play."  
They looked up at Katie again.  
"Finding a chaser will be the hardest, because he or she will have to be totally in sync with the other chasers- Alicia and I. And this has to be done quickly, because except for the Hufflepuffs, all the other teams have the same players as the year before last."  
Harry looked up.  
"Actually- the Slytherin seeker quit."  
All eyes were on him now.  
"That albino-Malfoy kid quit?" Alicia said hopefully.  
Harry nodded, and Fred gave George a high-five. Meanwhile, Katie got a critical expression on her face.  
"Don't rejoice too early! Remember, as much as the Slytherins are asswipes, they have fostered a lot of good, if not excellent, quidditch players and tacticians. And when all comes too- there has to be an incredibly good reason for Malfoy quitting the team, considering his over-sized ego. We mustn't slack off just because we think they're worse off than us. We have to think speed, agility, tactics!" She had a mad look in her eyes now.  
"Katie," said Alicia slowly, as if talking to a madman. "You sound like Oliver."  
  
The rest of the meeting drifted off into nothingness, seeing as Alicia had nicked Seamus' brandy while he had been flat out the first night, and insisted on sending it around (she wouldn't let Harry have anything, though). Both Katie and Fred got quite tipsy, and when Madame Hooch finally came along and threw the lot of them out of the changing rooms, she was giggling too hard to even stand up. Lee, however, easily solved this by lifting her up, and gave her a piggyback ride back to the castle. Both the twins and Alicia seemed amused by this, and for some reason, Fred kept on repeating 'spank it, spank it'. This, combined with the fact that Katie kept on hitting Lee lightly with her wand, somewhat disturbed Harry. To add to that, Alicia took off her scarf, and started to wave it around, trying to hit the people around her, kept chasing after anyone who ducked. She joined Fred in his chanting, so when they reached the common room, Harry was happy to hide over in Hermione's corner. However, seeing as Hermione's lithe frame was not much to hide behind, he decided that her desk would be a more suited hiding place. Or rather, in his hurry he tripped over the carpet and came flying, almost knocking over the table in the process. It was rather stuffy under there, and Hermione (who turned out to be quite ticklish) kept on squirming and kicking him, forcing him to grab hold of her foot.  
"Harry!" she exclaimed.  
Harry stuck his head out.  
"Yes?"  
She shot him a severe look, tucking her quill between her ear.  
"Would you please remove your hands from my left leg?"  
Harry looked down, only to see that his hands had indeed slid up on Hermione's leg. He blushed, and quickly withdrew them.

"Sorry," he muttered, blushing. She sighed.  
"What are you doing down there, anyway?"  
Deciding that he would rather lie than loose face, Harry thought a bit before answering.  
"Hiding."  
"From who?"  
"Voldemort!"  
She cocked her head.  
"Hilarious. Simply hilarious. You're so funny, you could give Jerry Seinfeld a run for his money."  
She looked at him, her eyes shadowed by…sorrow?  
"Why do you joke about it?"  
He stopped grinning.  
"I don't know… I just do."  
"I-" she started, but stopped as the quill fell down behind her. "Stupid quill," she muttered, and bent down to pick it up. Unfortunately enough, she leaned to far, and fell off the chair.  
Harry couldn't help but laugh, and even though she tried to keep a serious face, Hermione smiled too.  
"That's what happen when you get so pompous, Ms. Prefect!"  
She rolled her eyes, but instead of getting up again, she crossed her legs, just sitting there and watching Harry.  
"So…what are you really hiding from?"  
His mind was blank, and he simply answered the first word that came to his mind.  
"Everything."  
"Everything?"  
He nodded briskly, his eyes dark. "Everything's just so…fucking complicated."  
She didn't scold him for swearing, just put a hand on his chin, tilting it up, forcing him to look into her eyes, green on cinnamon.  
"Harry- life is complicated- even without a Dark Überlord on your tail. There's only one thing that's sure."  
"Yeah, what's that?"  
"That it becomes a hell of a lot harder if you keep it all inside."  
She smiled sadly, before pulling him into a hug.  
"Just keep in mind that I'm here for you, okay?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear.  
He nodded, blinking hard as he felt his eyes water up. /_Damnit, I will NOT cry/_  
"I just…I don't know what I'm….I don't know what to do."  
She swallowed hard as she withdrew.  
"Write Sirius, Harry. If nothing else, it'll help you sort out your thoughts."  
And with that, she stood up, collected her books, and walked away.  
***  
  
Although he kept Hermione's words in mind, it was not until Saturday, after five days of emotional chaos, bad dreams and having Cho avoiding him, that Harry wrote to Sirius.   
  
_Dear Sirius  
  
_He paused. How was he supposed to continue, _'how are you, I'm fine, except that I'm becoming an insomniac with a girl problem'_?  
No way.   
  
_Dear Sirius  
Sirius.  
  
It's been a while since my last letter. I'm not sure whether or not you're going to respond to this one (Hermione explained about the tightened security- is that still on?), but I really hope you will.  
See, I have this problem…actually, I have many problems.   
And not a single solution to any of them.  
  
I keep… I keep having these nightmares, about the things that happened last spring.   
I'm afraid.  
Afraid of sleeping.  
Afraid of living.  
I'm not sure why I'm writing this letter. After all, it's not like you have the power to stop them, or to save me from myself. Hermione's offered to make me a no-dreams potion, but I'm not sure whether or not take her offer, seeing as it stops the good dreams as well as the bad.  
  
My other problem is rather different.  
See, there's this girl _(Harry blushed)_ who's in my Divination class. Or rather, she's just started in it (I didn't thing she took it anymore, see).   
She's very pretty, and smart, and I act like a complete twit around her. Last year, I didn't think she liked me, because she was with this other guy (he's not around anymore), but a couple of days ago, she hugged me after class, and I just realised that this sentence is way too long and I'll stop it now.  
  
Yours, Harry  
  
_Harry looked over the letter one last time, and deciding that not even rephrasing could save his dignity after that last sentence, he resignedly tied the letter to Hedvig's leg. She hooted softly as she took off, through the Owlery window, and into the night.  
Harry picked the Invisibility Cloak off the floor (placed there because Hedvig refused to even come near if he was as much as touching it), and draped it around himself. As he turned to leave, he stopped dead in his tracks. The door burst open, and in hurried Hermione, dragging Ron after her. He breathed out, and was about to take the cloak off, when he realised that he hadn't told either of them that he had gone to there.  
So what the hell were they doing in the Owlery?  
  
Hermione turned, her face glowing with anger.  
"Explain, Ronald Weasley."  
"Explain what? That I don't want my best friend to embarrass herself by stripping before a horde of hormonal arses?"  
Hermione sighed, and threw her hands up in exasperation.  
"Everyone was stripping Ron, that's why it's called STRIP POKER! It's the whole meaning of it! Besides, I was winning!"  
"That's not the point!"  
"Then what?"  
"Girls are not- YOU are not- supposed to play strip poker with those boys!"  
For a moment, Hermione stared at him, dumbstruck.  
"Excuse me? Which boys am I supposed to play with, then?"  
Ron looked down at his feet.  
"Ron?" Here eyes were narrowed, not in a judgmental way, but confused, enquiring.  
He did not answer, and biting her lip, Hermione brought her arm up to touch his shoulder. However, he only brushed her away, and stormed out again. She stared at the door for a moment, before walking over to the windowsill, and sitting down.  
Harry stepped forward.  
"What happened?" he said.  
Hermione looked up, bewildered, and Harry lowered the hood of the cloak. In response, she breathed out, and as to emphasise, she put her hand over her heart.  
"Gods, Harry, you scared me."  
"Mind if I sit down?"  
She shook her head.   
For a while, they sat in silence, until she spoke up.  
"You saw it all, didn't you?"  
Harry nodded. "What happened?" he repeated.  
Hermione shrugged, looking away.   
"I was just playing cards with some of the others from my arithmancy study group, no big deal. Then that idiot came in, and gave everyone the stink eye."  
Silence, again.  
"He only does it because he cares about you, you know," said Harry.  
Hermione turned her face towards him.  
"What if I don't want him to care? What if I just want him to stop meddling, and leave me alone?"  
Harry didn't know what to answer- however, what could have turned out to be a really embarrassing moment, was saved by Hermione standing up.  
"I have to go," she said. "I have a letter to write."  
"To your parents?"  
Hermione shook her head.  
"No. To Victor."  
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